The Shadow Lurker
by RetroWriter2012
Summary: Ashlee "Ash" Williams has gotten herself caught up in time travel, witches, otherworldly demons, Pumpkin Kings, pirates, and other stuff that could give a sane person nightmares for an eternity. She'll have to gather her courage and arm herself with a chainsaw and a "boomstick" to defeat the murderous deity known as "The Shadow Lurker."
1. By the Pricking of My Thumbs…

**Chapter One: By the Pricking of My Thumbs…**

 **Gravity Falls, Oregon – 1981**

 _BUUUURRRRRRRRRPPPPPPPP!_

There was nothing as satisfying to Ashlee "Ash" Williams as that long, sweet, and tasty belch after chugging a can of beer.

O.K. Maybe one other thing: cruising in her Oldsmobile Delta 88.

The rural road was hers to command.

The eight-track blaring out the tune of the Bee Gees' "Stayin' Alive."

Alright, so there were _other_ more satisfying things!

It all was the perfect way to begin her spring break away from her cashier job at the S-Mart department store ("Shop Smart. Shop S-Mart."). There was nothing that was going to slow her down.

"What the…! There's a dude in the road!"

Well, there's that.

A pale man wearing a black suit with a matching top hat and a goatee standing right in the path of Ash's Olds; he barely flinched as she stomped down on the break and skidded to a halt, just an inch away from hitting him.

Rolling her driver's side window down, she stuck her head out and yelled, "Yo! What's the matter with you?! I almost killed ya!"

"My apologies, miss," he spoke in a calm, collected English-accented voice.

"What're ya doing out here so late anyway?"

"I was on my way back home – a cabin up the road. Might I so kindly ask you for a lift back?"

"Sure, whatever," Ash obtusely offered. "You caught me in a good mood tonight."

The man strolled his way into Ash's Oldsmobile, sitting right beside her up front – something that made her a little uncomfortable. This cabin of his had better be a short drive from there.

"My name is G.M., by the way."

Ash could care less what it was, yet she managed to keep the conversation civil.

"Ashlee Williams," she introduced. "G.M., eh? Like the motor company?"

"Yes, if you prefer." His voice was so eerily unruffled.

"You know, my ol' baby here is a G.M. brand," she stroked the dashboard.

"Do you read Shakespeare, Miss Williams?"

That was a weird segue.

"I, uh, studied a little bit in high school," she awkwardly replied. "Can't say that I understand a word of _Romeo & Juliet_ though. Ya know? All those confusin' metaphors and junk?"

"I was always fond of _Macbeth_ , particularly Act IV. 'By the pricking of my thumbs, something wicked this way comes…Open, locks…Whoever knocks…'."

Suddenly, a knock came from the front of Ash's car.

"Darn engine," she griped. "Gotta remember to get that thing checked."

G.M., not missing a beat, continued to reflect on _Macbeth_ : "That scene with the Wayward Sisters was written with such finesse. They knew every detail of the demise Macbeth surely led himself into."

"Uh-huh," Ash muttered, barely paying attention. "Hey, you like Stevie Wonder?"

She switched out the Bee Gees from her eight-track and put in Stevie.

Only it wasn't the wonderful Wonder's voice they heard out of the speakers:

" **I can tell that something wicked is coming by the tingling in my thumbs. Doors, open up for whoever is knocking!** "

The voice belonged to G.M., the very man sitting beside her.

He spoke in sync with his own voice on the radio.

Again, there was knocking underneath the hood; this time more intense.

It repeated until the hood flew off with flames bursting out from the engine.

"WHAT THE…?!" Ash shrieked with terror, losing total control of her Oldsmobile, while G.M. laughed manically from the passenger seat.

She drove off the road and into the nearest tree, exploding on impact.

And then…she woke up, screaming.

Both her and her Oldsmobile were still in one peace.

It was all a dream – an extremely realistic, poop-inducing dream.

Right away, she started up the engine, only for it to sputter and finally give out on her. "Just great," she scathingly grumbled while stepping out to check under the hood, unintentionally releasing a billow of smoke coming from the fried engine.

To her baffling surprise, it _literally_ burned out – just like in her dream.

Before she could comprehend what might've happened, she heard something in the forest…something that suddenly started chasing after her.

She fled into the woods.

But the pursing spiritual force proved to be much stronger.

It got a hold of her, thrashing her about the woods to the point that she lost consciousness, her body lying inert on the ground… only the fingers of her right hand lightly twitching.

* * *

Hours later, Ash recovered from the bizarre attack, her body wracked with pain.

She started back for the main road…and was then stopped…by her own hand!

It had involuntarily grasped onto a tree.

Thinking she might have got it caught in some sap, she tried prying it off; her efforts caused a large chunk of bark to tear off, her hand grasping onto it.

"What is this?!"

It was almost like her hand was possessed – and it _really_ was!

She forced it off the bark and wrestled with it, as it repeatedly slapped her in the face _Three Stooges_ style. After a couple of eye pokes and hair-pulling, she realized something had to be done about it.

Dashing through the woods, she found a cabin.

Didn't that weird guy in her dream say something about a cabin in the woods?

Anyway, she rushed into the tool shed, coming upon a chainsaw.

As insane of an idea it was, she had no other choice but to cut her hand off _with_ the chainsaw. Her blood sprayed everywhere from her face to parts of the shed.

Eventually, she passed out from the extreme pain and blood loss.

Her sentient hand crawled out of the shed in an attempt to escape; unfortunately for it, someone was quick to contain it.

And that someone was the cabin's owner, Ford Pines.


	2. Book of the Dead

**Chapter Two: Book of the Dead**

Ash woke up even groggier and in more agony than last time.

The first thing she realized on regaining consciousness (again) was that she had been taken into the cabin and settled on a couch.

And then there was the black-furred cat with green eyes sitting on her chest.

"Oh, good – you're finally awake," it _spoke_.

Ash groaned. "I'm still dreamin', ain't I?"

"And what makes you think that?"

"'Cause I'm talkin' to a freakin' cat!"

"The name's Thackery…Thackery Binx. And you're lucky to be alive right now."

Ash realized she didn't have much feeling in her right hand; lifting it close to her face, she was reminded of her earlier incident while staring at the treated and bandaged stump that used to be her hand.

"Quite the butchering you've done on that," Binx observed. "But desperate times call for desperate measures, I suppose."

Ash shot up from the couch, forcing Binx to climb off with a loud screech.

"A little warning next time," he demanded.

She was able to stand for a little while before she was forced back down on the couch, her dizziness overwhelming her.

The door to the adjacent room opened.

Out stepped a young gentleman in a long coat and glasses; he also had six fingers on each hand. "Ah, you're awake," he said of Ash. "Feeling any better?"

"I feel like I'm about to puke my guts out," Ash responded.

"I'm afraid that's expected when a person cuts off their own hand," Binx said.

"I see you've met Mr. Binx," the twelve-fingered man noted.

Ash snickered at how casual he spoke of the feline. "So the cat talkin' ain't part of my deliria? Man, I wish this were a dream…like the last one."

"Sorry, it's all very real," the twelve-fingered man stated.

He revealed an old mason jar; inside of it was Ash's severed, living hand feistily squirming, demanding for itself to be released.

"A dark force got into it," the man told her. "Nearly would have spread to the rest of your body, had you not severed it before then. I take total blame for it all, of course. I read from the book."

"When you _shouldn't_ have," Binx scolded. "I warned you of its power, Ford!"

"What book?" Ash asked out of curiosity (she was already mixed up in this craziness as it was).

"The Necronomicon Ex-Mortis," Binx answered. "Roughly translated as 'The Book of the Dead'."

"You shouldn't have read from it," shouted a voice from the next room where Ford emerged.

"Thank you, Glossaryck," Ford irritably shouted back. "The cat already told me!"

"Who is that?" Ash questioned. "How many bunkmates you got in this cabin?"

Rather than tell her, Ford showed her.

He led Ash to his private study where she saw a book bound in human flesh with a demonic-looking face on the cover. She assumed this to be the Necronomicon Ford talked about, sitting on his desktop.

And sitting on the Necronomicon itself was a gnomish sprite with blue skin and a white beard.

"Meet Glossaryck," Ford introduced the sprite.

Just when Ash thought she was overwhelmed enough by all the weirdness…

"I once inhabited another book entirely before this one," Glossaryck said. "A book of spells meant to assist a special princess and her unique abilities. Then it got destroyed, and me along with it. I was trapped in purgatory…until I found a new home inside the Necronomicon. In retrospect, it was like moving out of a five-star hotel and into a roach-infested apartment complex! But you wanna know what I despise _most_ out of all this? That I had to be moved out of time from 2017 all the way back to 1981! Oh, how I miss all the wonders of the 21st century…like Wi-Fi connection and _Game of Thrones_!"

What Glossaryck saw misery in made Ford as giddy as a schoolboy.

"Glossaryck's not just from another dimension – he's from another time altogether," Ford elated. "Isn't that incredible?!"

"Yeah, it's groovy," Ash passively remarked. "Look, all I want is to get my car fixed and get my butt away from all this!"

"There's no way out," Ford said. "At least not yet."

He brought Ash and Glossaryck down to his underground laboratory, one floor below his private study. There, a large, bizarre machine was housed.

"This is my universe portal," Ford divulged. "It has the power of opening a gateway to infinite worlds, and I intend to use its purpose to escape the nightmare that the Necronomicon has trapped us in. Start somewhere new, if possible. My whole life in this town I've spent studying its mysteries. I'll probably never see my brother Stanley ever again – which would probably be an improvement."

As Ford lamented, Ash – creeped out from so much weirdness – left the area.

The only one to have noticed this was Glossaryck.

"And there she goes," he indicated to Ford.

Ford turned in time to see Ash climb back upstairs, desperately calling her back, "No! Don't leave! It's not safe!"

Suddenly, he was stopped, feeling himself losing control of his mind and body.

"No…NO! NOT AGAIN!" he cried – his eyes glowing and becoming demonic.

Glossaryck casually looked on, knowing of the entity that began to take possession over Ford Pines.

"Hello again, _Cipher_."


End file.
